


Scotty Doesn't Know (And Neither Does Sheriff Stilinski)

by Stxrtrekk



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, M/M, Oral Sex, Season/Series 02, Secret Relationship, Sheriff Stilinski Finds Out
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 08:42:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6948493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stxrtrekk/pseuds/Stxrtrekk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just another Scott/Sheriff finding out about sterek fic</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scotty Doesn't Know (And Neither Does Sheriff Stilinski)

**Author's Note:**

> Any grammar/spelling mistakes and or plot holes are mine, please feel free to point any out and I'll get them fixed ASAP.

Here's the thing- Stiles hates lying to Scott. He realises that sometimes, yes, it's a necessity, sometimes it's the lesser of two evils, and sometimes it saves Scott from his own self destructive actions. But Scott was Stiles' best friend- so yeah, lying always left Stiles feeling nauseous, as if he'd committed a great sin, and after Scott was turned it just made everything worse, made the guilt in his stomach heavier and it was almost impossible to look his best friend in the eye. Possibly because, A) Scott could now hear when someone was lying and B) Stiles had always been a crap liar.   
However, was he going to give this up? Stiles thought to himself as Derek's lips trailed down his neck. Definitely not. Was he going to tell Scott? Absolutely not.  
"Mmm. Missed you." He murmured as he slid his hands up Derek's back and into his thick hair.   
Sharp yet human teeth scraped against his throat, before drawing up to Stiles' lips. Derek pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, teasing the tender, raw skin. Stubble burn marked Stiles jawline up to his temple, mapping Dereks' previous travels. Teeth bit down and Stiles moaned loudly, back arching toward Derek. He moved one leg so that he was straddling him in the drivers seat, rather than being pressed back into the passenger side; one of Dereks' hands was on his throat, holding him in place, the other just underneath his shirt at his waistband.   
"Derek," he sighed as their bodies aligned and his ass landed in Dereks' crotch. Stiles gasped for air when he thrust upward, jolting Stiles and hitting him right where he needed it.   
"Please, please, please," he murmured in Dereks' ear, fingers desperately clenching in his hair, his shirt, the tanned skin at the back of his neck.  
And then Derek pulled back.  
"We discovered car sex wasn't for us after the last time it was attempted," Derek sighed as he eased Stiles carefully back into the passenger seat of the Camaro, attempting to avoid any friction over his dick.  
"That was months ago! We could give it another try?"   
Derek turned his sceptical eyes to Stiles.  
He pouted and stared gloomily at Derek.   
"C'mon dude! It's not even late! My dad doesn't get off until 11 and-"   
"And Scott will be wondering where you are." Derek looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "I'll drop you off at home." He said before starting the car and pulling out of the deserted car park.  
"At least let me suck you off on the way?"   
The grin that stretched across Derek's features was smug, arrogant, and it made Stiles blood boil with indignity as well as desire. He glanced away from the road to look at Stiles with lust heavy eyes, before his hot hand was in the back of Stiles' hair, tugging while his other undid his belt buckle.   
"If you think you can handle it..."   
Stiles gaped, offended. That was one time, okay, one time he had cried with Derek's dick in his mouth. Not even cried, really, his eyes were just watering, and the water happened to fall out. In the shape of tears. Definitely not crying.   
"Anyway, any other person would probably have found it alarming, but no, not Mr Alpha Wolf! I could see how smug you were."   
Dereks' grin twitched and he leaned over to place his mouth to Stiles ear, his breath hot against his cheek as he mouthed the side of his face, sharp teeth taking small bites.   
"It's not my fault my cock is too much for you." He whispered hotly, laughing when Stiles sucked in a breath.   
The look in Dereks' eyes was wicked and amused and alpha red as he used the hand still in Stiles hair to guide his head down.   
He kept that hand there when Stiles finally, finally got Derek in his mouth, used it to push down and choke Stiles, filled him up and listened to his little intakes of breath as he stroked his neck.   
When Derek came it was with a growl, his entire form trembling and he gave into the need to thrust into the tight space of Stiles mouth- who sat up with a pop and a wide, satisfied smile, using the back of his hand to wipe his mouth. Derek pulled him forward by his jaw, kissed him quickly, sloppy and slightly off centre as he tried to keep his eyes on the road. They were in Stiles street by now, a few blocks away from his house.   
"I'll pick you up tomorrow," Derek murmured quietly, sated and sleepy from his orgasm. Ordinarily, this would have been prime cuddling time, which Stiles enjoyed almost as much as the sexy times and suspected Derek did too. "If you can ditch Scott, that is." He continued.   
"Damn. He really is like a little puppy dog."   
Derek just hummed non committaly as he drove. Stiles found himself staring at his face, wondering how this ever happened. It had been 2 months since they started...this thing. Derek refused to give it a name, mostly (Stiles suspected) because if he didn't admit his boyfriend was 17 and in high school, he wouldn't get arrested for it. But Stiles was free to call him his boyfriend in his mind, where Derek couldn't roll his eyes or mutter under his breath about it. Right?  
However much Stiles wished they had a name for... whatever this was, he couldn't think of one. They didn't really act like boyfriends. They saw each other when they could, when Stiles wasn't at school and wasn't with Scott and wasn't studying and wasn't calculating his dads cholesterol intake and when Derek wasn't off doing alpha stuff and turning people and brooding in the forest (probably) and training the newly recruited Boyd, Erica and Isaac. So they mostly just found secret little moments if and when they could, Derek would pick Stiles up from school sometimes, and he would sneak into Stiles bedroom when his dad was working an all nighter, and Stiles would turn up at the train station with the pretence of delivering message from Scott, and if he got lucky and Derek was alone, he'd let Derek fuck him against the wall, rough and quick, the way they had to be.   
Oh, they had ridiculous amounts of sex.   
Like, ridiculous. And pretty just anywhere with any semblance of privacy. It was getting almost impossible to hide the marks now; Derek is very... territorial. Which Stiles recognises as severely screwed logic considering that no one was ever going to see the marks Derek gave him, at least not until he was 18.  
Derek placed his hand on the back of Stiles' neck, long fingers wrapping around the sides of his throat, flexing and gripping again. It was a nice weight, though he would never admit he digs the posessive/protective vibe, purely because of the fact that Derek would walk all over him if Stiles allowed it.   
"You're being quiet." A statement framed as a question.   
"Hm. Just thinking." He reached up to touch his fingers to Dereks', tangling them for a second before letting go to fish his phone out of his pocket.   
"I'll text Scott, let him know I'm almost home; I'll tell him you gave me a lift from the garage." Which was where Stiles Jeep was. Again.   
Who knew having an alternative supernatural life would also mean spending so much on new car parts? Stiles didn't.  
"I did tell you I'd be able to fix it, Stiles," Derek drawled, pulling into his street.   
"Yes, you said you'd be able to fix it, but you and I both know that just means you'd check it into your garage and pay for it yourself." He laughed, looking down at his phone.   
"What's the difference?" Stiles looked up just in time to see Derek supress a wry smile.  
"The difference is that I don't need my big bad b- alpha to buy me things like I can't do it myself."  
Derek looked at Sties as if he was stupid- which, to be fair, he was probably being. Derek was always offering to pay for things- the amount of times he'd propositioned Stiles with a new car was ridiculous. He thought the Jeep was a "broken, over the hill death trap that should be sold for scrap metal". Stiles had said no, obviously, though he had hesitated. He was a seventeen year old boy in high school with no job, a car that was needy in the way that it needed lots of new things and lots of attention, and a dad who thought it was character building to make his son find ways of paying for everything. So, yes, Derek's offer had been tempting, however he found his willpower (and reminded himself what his life would become if he let Derek do whatever he wanted) and declined the kind offer, though thanked the werewolf anyway with the gift of oral sex.   
"Well, you know where I am when you need me. Or when the Jeep explodes."   
"She won't explode. She'd never betray me like that. We've known each other for a long time, I'll have you know; my dad bought her for me when I was 16 and I passed my test first time- she was already second hand and apparently dirt cheap, and probably I could have bought a new car twice over already with the amount of times she's been in the shop, but I really feel like she suits me. She has character."   
Derek pulled the car over outside of the Sheriffs house. He looked at Stiles incredulously.   
"Character? I'm beginning to wonder whether I need to be jealous of a Jeep- you have attachment issues. Your dad hasn't done you any favours by not cutting that off at the root."   
Stiles twisted in his seat, glaring into Dereks' eyes.   
"Are you saying I have attachment issues with my dad?" he asked carefully.   
"...Of course not. Everyone else's child also tells them how much saturated fat they may ingest per month. It's not just you."   
Stiles opened the door grumpily.   
"Yes, well. I suppose you would be attached to Peter, if he weren't such a massive, creepy, raving lunatic." He slammed the door before walking around to the drivers side. Derek rolled the window down and Stiles stuck his head in.   
"Thanks for the ride home, Sourwolf."   
Growls sounded from Derek's chest.   
"Thanks for the blowjob, sweetheart."   
Stiles smiled sweetly and kissed him quickly.   
"I better go. He said he's already on his way and I need to shower and brush my teeth at least three times."   
Derek's finger stroked his lip, smiling smugly.   
"Text me." He murmured before Stiles stood. The window rolled up and he'd driven away before he could formulate a response.   
Stiles bounced up the driveway and over the yard to his front door. He dug for his keys for a good couple of minutes and finally located them at the bottom of his bag- God only knows how they'd gotten that far down, he'd only used them this morning for chrissakes.   
He was kneeling by the doorstep, keys between his teeth and shoving books and pens and old sheets of essays back randomly when the door opened.   
A pit of dread opened in his stomach.  
His eyes travelled slowly, far too slowly. They went up past khaki slacks, followed by a shirt of the same colour. There was a gold star on the left side of the chest, the word Sheriff emblazoned across it. Up again, to an aged but strong throat and jaw, tanned unlike Stiles. And then he was looking at his dads face.   
"So." He began.   
Please, just ask me about school. Please, just tell Harris has been on the phone to complain about me. Again. He chanted in his mind, all the while knowing it wasn't going to make a jot of difference.   
"You got a ride home from school? Lucky Hale was just... hanging around in a school car park to offer you a lift."  
Fuck.


End file.
